"Oh, I am quite neutral," interposed Mayne, hastily. "I am neither for nor against our pastor; though I grant you it was strange that I should have met him where I did on the very night of the girl's disappearance." "No more strange than that you should have been there yourself, surely?" "Well, really; I suppose you don't mean to infer that I had anything to do with the girl's disappearance? I hardly knew her. Any converse I had with her was in your presence." "Rachel is not accusing you, Mr. Mayne," said Brand, coldly. "But she is zealous in support of her pastor, which does her nothing but credit: I trust her zeal may not prove to be misplaced. We must hope for the best." "Do you believe in Mr. Johnson's guilt?" asked Rachel, sharply. "I neither believe nor disbelieve," replied Korah, after a pause. "I know certain facts which are suspicious, and with these I will tax him when he is before us on his trial." "I will see the elders at once," said Farmer Carwell. "No time shall be lost in giving Mr. Johnson an opportunity of clearing himself. Let us hope that God in His mercy will avert disgrace from our Fold." "Amen to that!" cried Brand. "Surely the Lord will judge in all righteousness. He knoweth the sheep from the goats." "Mr. Johnson is not a goat," said Rachel, in all seriousness. Meanwhile, Jeremiah Slade, relieved for the time being from official duty, had gone home to his mid-day meal. Now that Brand had told him how Johnson confessed to the fact of his debts being paid, he was quite confident as to his guilt. The girl had been murdered near Carwell's field, and her body hidden in it. Near that field Johnson had on the night of the girl's death, been met, much agitated. The pearls had been stolen from the dead, and the minister's debts had been paid since that time. Finally, there was the cord used to strangle the wretched girl, which had clearly been taken from the pastor's study. All this pointed conclusively to Johnson's guilt, and Slade had almost made up his mind to arrest him. In the hope, however, of discovering some final and absolutely irrefutable piece of evidence, he decided to wait until he should have made a careful examination of the spot where the body was found. He could then, but only then, move with certainty as to the result. He felt confident of success, and it was with a rosy vision of himself as a full-blown inspector at Poldew that Slade entered his home. Seated by the kitchen fire, he found his wife in tears. At sight of her husband, these gave way to rage. Furious with passion, she jumped up to meet him. Apparently something serious had occurred. "They are back again, you wretch!" shrieked the little woman; "I have seen them myself. How dare you look me in the face?" "Are you crazy, Jemima?" growled Slade, angry and astonished; "what's come to you, woman?" "This has come to me, that I know all about it; oh yes, and your Zara!" "Ho, ho! so it's them confounded gipsies again, is it?"